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She grins. “I knew you’d come around.”
We leave everything where it is and climb the narrow metal staircase leading to the roof. Once at the top, the city stretches out beneath us with construction cranes and the distant hum of traffic blending with the occasional gull drifting overhead.
The rooftop is empty except for a few rusted ventilation units and a weathered brick ledge that overlooks the street. We settle onto it, legs hanging over the edge, and for a while, neither of us speaks as the food Amani brought slowly disappears before gulping down the water to wash away the silence.
“I miss this,” Amani states, eyes fixed on the construction vehicles across the street, “Just… existing together.”
I don’t answer, and she doesn’t seem to expect one.
“Things haven’t been the same lately,” she adds after a while, rubbing absentmindedly at the bottle between her hands with a wry smile. “I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind,” she laughs quietly, “…and my friends.”
I understand the feeling. Just differently.
My entire existence has been thrown upside down by one man who seems determined to insert himself into every corner of my life lately. In every shape and form, I might add.
The strange part isn’t that he wants to kill me.
It’s how unbelievably inconvenient he’s becoming.
Amani sighs, shifting her weight on the ledge. “Ever since Xavier disappeared…” Her smile fades completely. “It feels like everything’s falling apart.”
Her fingers tighten around the empty bottle again, squeezing.
“I keep wishing things would just go back to how they were.” She lets out a quiet breath. “But I know it doesn’t work like that.”
The silence stretches again. She looks like she’s waiting for me to say something about Xavier.
I don’t. What is there to say? Another memory surfaces, and I pivot the conversation. “Do you remember the volunteer shoot?”
Amani smiles instantly. “The one where nobody knew what they were doing?”
“You took over.”
She laughs. “Someone had to.”
“You weren't even part of the class.”
“Neither was the lecturer, apparently.”
A snort escapes me.
“After that," she says, nudging my shoulder, “I basically adopted you. You just kept following me around.”
“You were the only organized person there,” I add.
She grins. “You bet your ass I was.”
Below us, the city continues moving as if nothing has changed. And for a few quiet minutes, it almost feels like it hasn’t.
Amani bumps my shoulder with hers. “You know what I still think about sometimes?”
“Hm?”
“The first time you came over to my house.”
I let out a quiet breath through my nose. “Your mothers.”
“My poor mothers.” She laughs, already shaking her head.
